


i'm holding him just like he's gold

by aizensosuke



Category: Bleach
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Hair Brushing, Kissing, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Praise Kink, Role Reversal, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 18:01:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17872106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aizensosuke/pseuds/aizensosuke
Summary: there is only one espada that nnoitra gilga would kneel for.





	i'm holding him just like he's gold

There are few moments Nnoitra Gilga cares enough to consider precious or important enough to carve time out of his day to experience. This is one of them.

Morning had come and he was predictably restless, hunting Szayelaporro Granz down in his laboratory for something to do. He had been sent on a mission to occupy his time until his Espada returned from his own mission, one too complicated and delicate for Nnoitra to follow, hunting down an Adjuchas whose reiatsu had piqued Szayel’s interest. The creature is hardly worth his time, and he incapacitates it easily enough so he can drag it back to the Espada waiting for him. In another lifetime, he might have passed his time sitting at Szayel’s feet, listening to him ramble about his latest experiments.

He is cunning and cruel, sharp as a life and craftier than almost all of the Arrancar. Those are appealing traits to Nnoitra. There is nothing weak or subservient about him.

He drops the Adjuchas off and retires to the private quarters he shares with his master so he can wash the gore from his skin, wiping away the blue blood of the Adjuchas and scrubbing the flesh from beneath his nails. Once, such conquest was proudly worn on his skin. A Hollow never had to consider cleanliness until Aizen had come to Hueco Mundo.

It turns out to be worth it when he hears the door of their private quarters open and close, head whipping around so fast his neck quickly protests the angle.

“Nnoitra?” The familiar voice of his Espada has his mouth stretching wide in a grin even before the man himself appears in the doorway, looking perhaps wearier than usual but nonetheless put together. “Ah, here you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

Before Las Noches, there was no one in this world Nnoitra could ever swear to care about. His life had been full of strife and despair and death long before he ever truly died, and he dedicated his days in Hueco Mundo to surviving, to becoming stronger, to eliminating all of the weak so that the strongest foe would be his and his alone. And then he had been dragged, kicking and screaming and fighting, all the way back to this cold white palace by an Arrancar with eyes such a vivid green they seemed poisonous.

“This explains why you did not meet me as soon as I stepped through the garganta. Too busy to check for my reiatsu.” His Espada closes the door behind him, walking toward the tub where Nnoitra sits beneath the water, his hand stretching out to rest on top of Nnoitra’s head, the soothing touch enough to steal the starch from his muscles.

Before Las Noches, the only purpose he had was his own. So when he found himself inducted into Aizen’s Arrancar Army, Nnoitra attacked all of those who stood in his way, intent on climbing to the position of Espada to prove his strength. He might have managed it, had been mowing through plenty of opponents, until the one above him. The one who sits on the edge of the tub and coaxes Nnoitra into lying his head on his waiting lap.

“Tesla-sama.” The name rolls off of his tongue and he twists around, pressing his cheek down against Tesla’s thigh. “You kept me waiting for so long this time.”

Strong fingers slip under his jaw, tilting his head so that he meets the warm brown eye peering down into his own. “I apologize. It was a messy battle, but we come home with a victory beneath our belts. I will speak to Aizen-sama about allowing you to join me soon.”

The position of a Fraccion was simple in and of itself, swearing loyalty to an Espada, accepting their orders secondary only to those of Aizen Sosuke himself. No Espada had any right to a Fraccion, and none had ever been taken against their will; they followed in the footsteps of those they admired, those they believed were strong, or just, or who carried a code they agreed with. Nelliel had her two Fraccion, Yylfordt his own handful, Szayel… Has something, though Nnoitra wonders if they truly  _ chose _ him.

He wonders if they _ regret _ choosing him, to be more correct.

“It is a nice sight to come home to, though,” Tesla muses, combing his fingers through the soft wet mass of Nnoitra’s hair, left to grow long the more Nnoitra realized that he enjoyed playing with it, winding it around his fingers, curling it tight around his fist when he held Nnoitra still to fuck him. “Finish your bath and I’ll tell you about the mission as I brush your hair. Would you like that, Nnoitra?”

“Yes, Sir.” Nnoitra leans his head up enough, drawing his lips over Tesla’s forearm.

Tesla’s smile is soft. “Very good. I’ll be waiting for you on the couch, then.”

Rushing through the bath would disappoint Tesla, so despite his excitement at having Tesla home once more, Nnoitra takes his time washing the day from his skin, allowing himself a moment to relax before he finally drains the water and rises from the basin. He gives his hair a precursory towel-dry and pats his skin as damp as he can get it, wrapping the towel around his waist and walking into their quarters to find Tesla waiting for him, his eye closed, no doubt meditating and decompressing from the day.

The hairbrush sits on the couch beside him.

“Sit in front of me, Nnoitra.” Tesla indicates the space between his boots and Nnoitra obediently sits there, knees drawn up to his chest, lanky arms wrapped around his knees. He peeks over his shoulder, watching Tesla’s eye flutter open as he leans forward. “Very good, very obedient. It’s a relief to come home to you after such a battle.”

“Anything to please you, Tesla-sama.” After all, he chose to serve Tesla no matter what Tesla would ask of him, knowing that Tesla would never ask for more than he could give.

Tesla picks up the hair brush, uses his teeth to pull the leather of his gloves from his fingers, flexing them. His joints pop softly. He likes to touch Nnoitra’s hair directly. “So, the battle with the shinigami. Where should I begin?”

“How about the beginning, Sir?” Nnoitra flashes him a smirk, and Tesla smiles fondly.

“The beginning, then.” He combs his fingers through Nnoitra’s pair, selecting a section of it to drape over his thigh, running the bristles through it slowly. “So, the human town.”

The soft lull of Tesla’s voice is soothing after his long leave from Las Noches. Nnoitra closes his eyes as he listens to him, his mind wandering back to their first meeting, to Tesla accepting his challenge kindly before dismantling him. The sheer strength of Verruga was enough to bring Nnoitra to his knees, crumpling his resolve into nothingness; Santa Teresa paled so greatly in comparison that he begged Tesla to kill him.

How could he ever hope to be strong, when someone could defeat him so easily?

There was no cruelty in Tesla’s body. Instead, he picked Nnoitra’s broken, bleeding body off of the ground and cared for him in his own quarters, dragging a healer to the room and watching over him faithfully. While Nnoitra recovered, Tesla showed him a tenderness he had never known, not in his mortal life, not in the long endless cycle of survival in Hueco Mundo. Every touch was meant to bring him comfort, every word spoken low and soft so that it uncurled slowly in his mind, soothing him instead of riling him.

When he was strong enough to stand, he was strong enough to kneel. To kneel at Tesla’s feet, to request that he be allowed to follow in Tesla’s footsteps as his Fraccion.

_ I need no one to follow me, Nnoitra. _ The gentleness of Tesla’s hand cupping his jaw, the coolness of the leather, the strength beneath. Nnoitra shuddered in his grip.  _ But to have someone stand at my side? That is something I could learn to enjoy. _

“Have you fallen asleep on me?” Tesla teases him, giving his hair just enough of a tug for Nnoitra to feel it, not nearly enough to hurt him. “Your bath must have relaxed you.”

“No.” Nnoitra looks back at him, hopes that his naked honesty bleeds into his voice, into the way he gazes at his Espada. “Having you home is what does that.”

He notes the way all of Tesla’s gentle, handsome features soften, the way he leans over to press his lips to the top of Nnoitra’s head before he returns to brushing his hair. There is so much of it now. When he had become an Arrancar, it was long enough to brush the nape of his neck, but now it lays against the length of his back. Every time he expects Tesla to complain it is finally too long, too much of a hassle, he only does something like this.

When he has brushed out the ends of Nnoitra’s hair, as well as the vast midsection of it, the bristles slip through the hair on the top of his head, brushing softly against his scalp. The gentle touch is enough to make his eyelid heavy and he lets it slip shut, safe here with his Espada watching over him and caring for him. How could he ever be afraid?

“I love seeing you like this.” The brush disappears and Nnoitra tilts his head, pulling his eye open enough to see Tesla setting it down beside him. “So relaxed and calm and just for me. No one else gets to see you like this but me. This side of you belongs to me.”

“Every side of me belongs to you, Tesla-sama.” Doesn’t he know that? Doesn’t he know that Nnoitra belongs to him, mind and body and whatever remains of his heart and soul?

Tesla chuckles softly. “That I do. Come up here and sit on my lap, Nnoitra.”

Movement seems difficult in such a state but Nnoitra moves because Tesla wants him to, allowing himself to be drawn up into Tesla’s lap. His thighs are warm through his pants, firm enough to make Nnoitra feel concerned, wide with muscle and giving him plenty of room to settle down. Even sitting like this, he is taller than Tesla, but he makes himself small, winding his arms around Tesla’s shoulders, tucking his face into the soft, neatly-combed fluff of Tesla’s sandy hair. He smells clean, feels strong in Nnoitra’s arms.

“Darling,” Tesla whispers, and Nnoitra makes a small noise in the back of his throat at the sound, a small gasp uncurling from his lips when Tesla presses a hand in the small of his back, urging him closer. “You must have missed me more than I anticipated.”

“I always miss you when you have to leave, Tesla-sama,” Nnoitra murmurs against his skin.

The fingers pressed into his back move against his skin, massaging the flesh above where the towel is cinched tight around his waist. If he wanted to be brazen, he could shift enough that the knot of it comes loose, the fabric sliding away from him entirely and leaving him nude before his Espada. Certainly, Tesla has seen him naked before. He touched every thin, sinewy part of Nnoitra’s body with his fingers and his mouth and told him he was beautiful, and perhaps Nnoitra had believed he meant it.

Tesla tilts his head, his breath warm against Nnoitra’s lips. “I will make it a priority to speak to Aizen-sama. You are always useful on the battlefield, after all.”

“Thank you.” Nnoitra curls closer to him, mouthing at the side of his neck. “Tesla-sama…”

There is no thought to add to the tail-end of that. Sometimes, he merely likes to speak the name of the Espada he adores, the only Espada worthy of having Nnoitra kneeling at his feet in obedience, in devotion. Tesla is the only one Espada who would tell him he appreciates him and then help him to his feet and remind him that he would never demand such a position of him, would only ever want him to choose it for himself.

Tesla stands with Nnoitra gathered in his arms like he weighs nothing, the taut strength of his strong arms and back a formidable force against Nnoitra's long, lanky frame. Once, the prospect of being carried was an embarrassment to be shunned, an ugly and twisted sign of weakness, but now he hides a smile against the side of Tesla’s neck and allows himself to be taken to bed, hand wrapped around the nape of Tesla’s neck.

Their bed had to be altered for Nnoitra’s height but it was well worth it. Tesla lies him down on the mattress, hands deftly removing the towel from his hips and leaving him bare to his Espada’s eyes. Even his eye patch is not currently in place, left on the counter so that the water would not wet it and make it unbearable to keep against his Hollow hole.

“I am such a lucky man,” Tesla muses, sitting down next to him, his gaze roaming over Nnoitra’s naked body, leaving no part of him untouched by that gentle look.

Nnoitra tilts his head, hides his face in the dark shadow of his hair. “Me, too.”

“Very good.” Tesla’s fingers gather his hair, tugging it away from his face. Once, Nnoitra would have argued with him. That  _ he _ was the lucky one,  _ not _ Tesla, because who could ever be lucky to have a Fraccion like him? Tesla broke him of the habit.  _ I want you to value yourself as much as I value you. _ “Let me see your face, Nnoitra.”

His bare fingers are warm against the edges of Nnoitra’s Hollow mask and he closes his eye, focusing on the sensation of the touch. Such a thing is dangerous, he knows; Nnoitra is an unlucky Arrancar in such a respect to have his Hollow hole and his mask located in the same place because it makes him weaker, more prone to being finished off with a single blow as long as an enemy can detect this weakness and decide to exploit it.

Tesla has never used it against him. To let Tesla touch his mask is the surest sign of trust Nnoitra can give him, tilting toward his hand, asking him to touch as much as he wants.

He traces the sweep of bone across Nnoitra’s forehead to the teeth that ring his eye, the pad of one finger tracing each bump of white until Nnoitra trembles faintly beneath him. Not from fear, of course; anticipation quivers in each of his limbs but he remains as still as he can, a low gasp rising up in his throat when Tesla’s finger touches the edge of his hole.

“Do you trust me, Nnoitra?” Tesla asks him, and Nnoitra drags his eyelid open to look up at him, can just see the edge of one powerful forearm. “Can I touch you here?”

Nnoitra’s mouth is dry. He drags his tongue across his lips, thinks that Tesla’s pupil expands just slightly. “Yes, Tesla-sama. I do. You can touch me there.”

The inside of a Hollow hole is sensitive to touch, vulnerable to attack if a blade were to properly connect. Tesla slips his finger inside and Nnoitra can feel the pressure of his reiatsu there, a warning subtle and low in his bones that the Espada is stronger than him, strong enough to crush him. But he knows Tesla would never and gives himself over to touch, gasping when Tesla’s finger brushes inside of the hole, up against the side.

“Your trust in me is the most beautiful part of you,” Tesla tells him, another finger joining the first, the pressure increasing, the sensation singing through Nnoitra’s nerves. It’s intense, the way Tesla touches him, knowing where the most sensitive parts of the hole are. “It also belongs to me. No one else will ever see the way you look like this.”

Tesla does not have to touch his cock, already curving hard against his belly just from the touch of Tesla’s fingers inside of him. “Yes, Tesla-sama. I don’t trust anyone else.”

“Gorgeous,” Tesla purrs, and Nnoitra whines softly up at him. “Looking at me like this, letting me touch the most vulnerable part of you without a second thought.”

His fingers tap out a pattern against the inside of the hole and Nnoitra feels it sizzle hot through his entire body, his hips shifting restlessly on the bed. There is nothing but sensation and Tesla and the sensation Tesla gives him, the soft lullaby of his voice as he touches parts of Nnoitra that do not warm him but inflame him in an instant.

“Look only at me,” Tesla tells him, and Nnoitra does. “Tell me how it feels, Nnoitra.”

“S’a lot,” he just barely manages, a breathy exhale of a soul more than true words.

Tesla smiles at him, leans down to kiss him, fingers intently massaging the inside of his hole so suddenly, with such focused precision, that Nnoitra has no defenses against it. It is embarrassing how fast he comes, a wordless little cry that Tesla licks from behind his teeth, sucks off of the tip of his tongue. He kisses Nnoitra through the long, slow roll of the orgasm that feels like it may never end, curling in every muscle in his body.

He lies in the afterglow while Tesla disappears from the bed, returning with a damp cloth that he uses to wipe the semen from Nnoitra’s belly and cock before lying down next to him. With clumsy fingers, Nnoitra removes his uniform, mouthing at the bare skin he can uncover, Tesla’s soft laughter a beautiful echo that stretches down into his soul and stokes every ember in his heart into a bright and burning flame once more.

There is no Espada whom Nnoitra would kneel for except for Tesla Lindocruz, his Quinta Espada.

**Author's Note:**

> fun facts: bleach brave souls has implied tesla and nnoitra were equals before tesla chose to become nnoitra's fraccion
> 
> also this is the second time i've gone off to write something about arrancar and started writing about sexual hollow hole play entirely without intending to


End file.
